My Damsel, Treasure of Darkness

La La La La…

The quietness of my early morning soul

A blended symphony of my cacophonic existence

Tested… Tried… but yet unfinished

I pursue the ‘wholiness’ of life

In several unholy ways,

Seeking unfindingly a liberated opening

To escape my barrage of decisions.

 

I have become the hybrid Being of Love and ‘Disgust’

A blend;

Only surpassed by Pharasitical Love Puritans

Methodically striving for blasphemous glories.

 

I am agitated at the emptiness of Your soul

And the sweet shallowness of its lyrics

I’m constantly drawn to the music of Your minds’ melodic oration,

But experiencing no salvation after its inspirational nonsense is done

 

Your Breasts, a fountain of honey-oozing succour

Your Lips, a treasure-chest of vanity in dark’s delight

Your Bosom, my forever guilty atonement for our midnight sacrilege

Your Lust triangle, the passionate sweet death of me.

 

I look for You in the Light,

You whom I thought I knew in the Dark

But there’s so much the Light has shown,

That my picture of you stands worse than distorted.

 

Thus, I sit and listen to Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings

To restore some civility and sanity to my chaotic mind,

As I gradually erase the taunting memory of You.

 

Still, boggled by the contradiction of Your words,

Your deeds and Your thoughts,

I stand ashamed for bearing Cupid‘s message to your heart.

Well, that which I never found.

 

Sadly, You were more beautiful in the Dark, My Damsel Treasure of Darkness!

 

 

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Author's Note

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